


Falling

by suchahuckleberry



Category: Little Women (1994), Little Women (2019), Little Women Series - Louisa May Alcott
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23708938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchahuckleberry/pseuds/suchahuckleberry
Summary: His hands were slick with perspiration, drooping against his lithe body as the sprightly wedding reel sounded throughout the chapel. The organ's melody was sweet and jolly, but Laurie had never cared much for the instrument, as he always believed it had a habit of making even the happiest of hymns sound ridden with pain and angst. He chuckled as that thought crossed his mind. It seemed a rather fitting analogy for his crumbling heart.Or: Amy marries Fred Vaughn and Laurie watches on heartbroken, daydreaming of what could have been...Inspired by Falling by Harry Styles
Relationships: Amy March & Elizabeth March, Amy March & Josephine March, Amy March/Fred Vaughn, Friedrich Bhaer/Josephine March, Theodore Laurence & Amy March, Theodore Laurence & Josephine March, Theodore Laurence/Amy March, Theodore Laurence/Margaret "Marmee" March
Comments: 11
Kudos: 73





	Falling

His hands were slick with perspiration, drooping against his lithe body as the sprightly wedding reel sounded throughout the chapel. The organ's melody was sweet and jolly, but Laurie had never cared much for the instrument, as he always believed it had a habit of making even the happiest of hymns sound ridden with pain and angst. He chuckled as that thought crossed his mind. It seemed a rather fitting analogy for his crumbling heart.

His body was trapped in the small pew of the Concorde chapel where he had spent many Sundays pretending to be interested in the preaching and teachings of Jesus Christ, when all he wanted to do was go and meet the Marches for Sunday lunch, with all their laughter and singing and delicious spreads Marmee would prepare. He never felt lost or entrapped at the Marches' house as he did in Church each week. That same claustrophobic feeling creeped over his shoulders and down his spine, causing him to fidget nervously with the collar of his crisp, white shirt, suddenly feeling far too small and warm. As instructed by the Priest, he stood to face the back of the chapel, sharing one last reassuring look with Jo and Friedrich, who were stood at his side, waiting for the vision in white to bless the chapel with her presence.

The music reached a crescendo as she appeared in the doorway of the chapel, his heart momentarily seizing to beat as he laid eyes on the woman who was on the arm of Mr March, gleaming with all the graces and virginal beauty of a true bride. She truly looked like the most angelic bride he had ever seen, the picture of innocence. He could hear the sniffles of Marmee from the end of the other pew, who's heart was bursting with pride for her youngest daughter who was exchanging smiles with the man whom she would soon become one with, God as the highest witness of their sealed commitment to one another as man and wife for the rest of their days.

Laurie fingered the base of his tie out of habit, the room becoming far too hot and too small with each footstep she took closer to the alter. She was clad in a flurry of white chiffon, her hair tied neatly in a half up style with a long veil that Marmee had hand-embroidered adorning her head like a crown does a queen. She was as beautiful as the first snowflake of December, crisp and clear with ambition. Her cheeks were blushed with humility, sweeping down the aisle with the same elegance she always carried herself with, yet the same cheery youthful charm that had always left Laurie so taken with her, ever since their first encounter when she was a mere 12 years old. Oh, how time had been cruel to him.

As he watched the surrounding friends and family's faces light up with pride for the woman Amy March had become, his own heart became swollen with heartache, for he was not the groom that she was approaching but now rather a mere figure from her past. The truth of that realisation hit so suddenly that it was like a punch to the stomach, so much so he lost concentration and before he knew it he was sat watching his little Raphaella thank her beaming father and take a shaky breath before clasping the large hands of Fred Vaughn at the end of the aisle.  
Laurie wished, for just a moment, that it were him stood where his old friend Fred Vaughn was. That he was watching the youngest March blush and stare at his with those emerald eyes peeping through long, curled eyelashes as they exchanged rings, ready to accept their life together as one. 

But he wouldn't have it like this. Oh no, no this was all wrong. If it were Laurie where Fred Vaughn dared to stand, he would only be surrounded by one or two close family members, purely for the sake of witnessing their marriage. And Amy? Well he couldn't deny that she looked beautiful, but he couldn't help but think that she would look even better in her signature blue. Sure, blue wasn't traditional but the Amy he knew had never cared for the weight of tradition to stop her ambitions. He would have ordered that her hair be braided in one of those signature but stylish up-dos she had been so fond of all her adult life because they framed her sweetheart face so beautifully. It would also allow him as her groom to slide the pins holding it up one by one that first marital night and allow her golden curls to run freely down her creamy shoulders, for him and only him to take the time to entangle his fingers in whilst their hearts and minds and bodies intertwined. Laurie wanted nothing more than to be the only man in the world deserving enough to see her in an unkempt wild state. He didn't like this half-up half-down hairstyle she had, not because she didn't look beautiful but because it wasn't the Amy he knew. His Amy would have the prim and proper braided bun giving that pristine appearance to strangers and aquantices she met every day, but would save her untamed spiralling locks for those she loved and trusted most in her life, so magnetising that one couldn't resist wanting to run a hand through just to feel the softness of her golden tresses. Instead, he had to settle for running a slick hand through his own rough curls that were becoming increasingly unsightly throughout the service.

Laurie fidgeted furiously throughout the majority of the service, wanting nothing more than to be back in Paris, traipsing the day away with the littlest March in his company. He imagined if he had only done things differently. He knew his heartache and grief was brought on by his own foolish actions, yet he couldn't help but pity himself. Laurie had been so caught up in striving for excellence when Amy told him he wouldn't marry him and to go London to work that he made the mistake of whoring himself out to women of the night, hoping to feel something, anything after Amy's rejection. News spread quickly all the way to Paris of his immaturity, and unlike when Jo had rejected him, it only fed his heartache further. The itch wasn't scratched, and worse he had hurt his darling Amy who had sent a strongly worded letter, suggesting he buck up his actions soon or she would cut him off completely.  
It was only the next day that news of Beth's passing broke. He fled London for Paris immediately, knowing that Amy could not be left alone in such a time of crisis. 

But when he arrived, he was too late.  
By the time he got back to Paris she had already fled to Fred, seeking comfort in her darkest days filled with grief after dear Beth's departure from earth. If only Beth were here right now, he would truly appreciate one of her soothing hugs and lovely melodies.  
Only a few weeks later he received an RSVP, confirming the worst that Amy was engaged to the rottenly rich Vaughn. Good God, of all the men in Europe she had to choose from, she took the blandest one going - and an Englishmen at that!  
When it had dropped on his doorstep, Laurie had wanted to burn it, tear it in to pieces, destroy any traces of the truth that Amy March no longer wanted Laurie in her life. He even considered suicide, though did decide that it was a rather dramatic and impractical reaction and he knew Amy would have told him to stop being so Shakespearian. His hands had shook with anger as he held the invitation in his grasp, but he didn't set it on fire or even allow his teary eyes to smudge the neat calligraphy. Instead, he printed him and his grandfather's name in scratchy handwriting and posted it back to the Marches, still unsure whether he would be able to face the light of day in time for the upcoming wedding. He was no expert, but things had surely progressed far too quickly between Amy and the Englishmen, though he couldn't deny that he too would have married her on the spot had she asked. 

As the ceremony progressed, he felt the eyes from the statue of Christ boring into his soul. At least he knew what his next confession to God would be, for he knew that looking at a married woman with amorous, wanton eyes was most definitely a sin, especially imagining the bride's sweet moans and creamy skin in the house of God. 

"If anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."  
The dreaded words fell from the priests' mouth and Laurie could feel his chest tightening with adrenaline.  
In another life, he would scream "I OBJECT" with wild abandonment and he would ignore the horrified gasps by professing his love to Amy, and would sweep her off her feet to run away to another life where they would live out their days as one in a small cottage in the country with their little children running in the fields whilst the sun set behind them.  
But Laurie knew better than anyone the harsh realities of life. There was no space for daydreaming of that type, and he couldn't hurt Amy anymore than he already had, especially on her big day. Still, it didn't soothe the ache he had to just hold his girl. Laurie sniffled, wanting the moments silence that seems to last a lifetime to be over so that he could go home and drown his miseries in peace. He felt a comforting hand land on his knee and looked up to meet Jo's eyes, who shared a watery smile with the forlorn boy.

Laurie couldn't help but compare the heartbreak Jo had provided him with just over two years ago with this one. He was undeniably broken when Jo rejected him, it was that first heart break that split a young boy's heart directly down the middle and caused him to sink to the tender numbing process of women, gambling and drinking to heal. With Amy though, it was different. Their love was different. He had wanted to build himself up. He had wanted to be better. He had tried sleeping with those women and it did nothing to soothe the constant chronic pain of missing her, because he knew in his heart of hearts that he wanted nothing more than for those women to be Amy March. This kind of heart break was not the kind that split his heart in two as Jo's had, but instead caused little pieces of his heart to crumble away each day he spent apart from her, imagining her in another's arms. It was all-encompassing and restraining and freeing all at the same time. Amy Vaughn. Good God, that sounded wrong.

Laurie's heart did not even twitch when the ceremony finally came to an end and the young lovers shared a kiss, consolidating their partnership for life. He could see it clear as day in her smile, she did not love Fred. Amy had lectured him that sunny day in the art room that she believed she had a choice in who she loved and how she saw marriage as an economic proposition and not much more, and for the first time, with Amy stood there clad all in white, he truly understood her reasoning. He couldn't blame the girl for choosing a life of comfort and convenience over one of adventure, for she had always seen that as Jo's destiny to fulfill. He watched as Fred Vaughn gleefully swept Amy of her feet and lifted her bridal-style back down the aisle, the woops and cheers of their loved ones trailing after them in support. If only they too could see that the bride's smile never quite reached her eyes, which were tinged in bittersweet contentedness. He had to question whether it was right that Amy was choosing to be just happy enough, rather than truly happy, but he guessed it was no longer his business to say so. He sighed a breathe of relief as he watched the nupitals leave the chapel and couldn't wait to show his face at the Marches' reception so that he may find a reasonable excuse to go home and soothe his sorrows alone.

"Teddy?"  
He turned around to hear Jo's voice calling him to join her and Friedrich on the walk home to the Marches'.

"Are you alright laddy? You seem awfully quiet."  
Jo posed the question cautiously, fully aware of why Laurie's mood was so sour. She had been surprised when Laurie had poured out the extent of his feelings for her sister when she had found him in tears one evening waking through the forest behind their homes, but his love clearly ran deep and true and Jo felt a pang of guilt for her old friend who faced yet another heart break. Jo even realised that this one was more catastrophic than the rest, for Laurie had made it perhaps too clear that he had never loved a woman the way he loved Amy.

As they arrived at the Marches' property which had been lovingly decorated by Meg with her little children's help, Laurie reached for the first drink he could get his hands on, downing the glass of whiskey quicker than Jo could protest.  
"Laurie, my dear boy, you must slow on the drinks. You will be out of it before three in the afternoon and that is not the best first impression on the uptight Vaughn's for us to make, now, is it?"

"Jo, I mean this with no offence, but the only way I will be able to even make it to three in the afternoon is with many, many strong drinks."  
Laurie teased back, causing them to laugh lightly despite his tone clearly being tinged in bitter seriousness. He appreciated Jo being at his side during this whole debacle, as she always had been. However, he was acutely aware that he was no longer Jo's first priority, as she had only just about been able to detach herself from her own husband's side for the afternoon. If fact, he became acutely aware that they had all grown up, and he was no one's first priority anymore. Now that was a sobering thought. 

And on that bombshell he decided he had best head back to his own residence as not to accidentally cause a ruckus, which he was sure he was going to if he had to watch Fred Vaughn cradle Amy in his strong arms once more that afternoon. Laurie retrieved his coat from the bannister of the stairs and slipped in to the kitchen to see if Jo was anywhere to say goodbye.  
Instead, he found Amy by herself, taking a minutes refuge to fan her face and sip her champagne, savouring the quiet rest from the chaos for just a moment.

In that quiet little kitchen, he watched Amy silently say a thousand different words to him with just a glance. It was the first time they had been alone together since her rejection and he could see the whole myriad of emotions clouding her eyes, from regret to ambition to content to conflict to peace. They silently locked eyes, as if to ceremoniously grieve what could have been, what would have been, what should have been. With a sad smile and without saying a word, he raised his glass in congratulations, and she - with a matching bittersweet nod - raises her glass to him as they lay their great love story to rest.  
Maybe in another life, things would have been different, but fate was often a cruel, cruel mistress to star-crossed lovers. After all, Romeo and Juliet ended up dead. At least Laurie could appreciate that wasn't the way things had ended.

He no.lonher could bare the tension and slipped away as if he had never been there in the first place. He let his heart sink to the pit of his stomach and a lump arise in his throat. Through the front entry of the house, he spotted Jo and made a beeline, hoping to not catch anyone he knew on his way before Jo, who kindly volunteered to walk him home. They made it approximately 400 yards from the house to a quiet spot before Laurie plops down by the lakeside with a huff and spills the content of his eyes he had been fighting all morning to keep on.  
"Oh, Teddy. Dear, dear Teddy."  
Jo soothed, allowing the weight of his head to rest on her shoulder as they always had when they were small children and one was hurt. He left out a small sniffle followed by an exhausted chuckle.

"You March girls sure know how to break a heart, huh?"

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Here was a very ramble quick one off fic based on the song 'Falling' by Harry Styles. I think his whole album Fine Line really suits Amy and Laurie's relationship and I wanted to base some angst on this. I also wanted to include Laurie leaning on Jo through his heartbreak because I love their friendship so much!! Hope everyone is doing okay in isolation, I have you all in my thoughts and hope this may entertain you just a bit through this tough time!! If you enjoyed it would mean the world if you left kudos and comments - and of course thank you for reading!!  
> PS I'm allowed to bully Fred Vaughn for being British because I myself am ;)


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